Cliche Motivation
by spikeyhairgood
Summary: [Friday Night Lights] Don Billingsley expected to improve his writing and grammar with his tutor sessions, but he never expected that he would learn the frustration of being vulnerable.
1. Student and Tutor Girl

_Summary[Friday Night Lights Don Billingsley doesn't stick to one girl, it's a known fact. Dylan Reyes dislikes popular jocks who have egos that cloud their common sense, also a known fact. But what happens when one cynical outcast and an egotistical football player are forced together? Nothing can happen between them, right?  
_

_Disclaimer: Don't own anything except my two OC's. _

_A/N: Hey guys, this is my first FNL fic, and I'm hoping you guys like it. Please review with feedback so I know if people are reading and enjoying.  
_

- - - - - - - - -

Don Billingsley groaned, gripping onto his steering wheel in frustration, as Brian Chavez chuckled in the passenger seat of the car.

"I don't understand why you can't be the one to just tutor me," Billingsley said, and Chavez shook his head. "You're a dick, Chavo."

"Hey, even if I tried to tutor you, you wouldn't listen and just call me a dick," Chavo defended himself. "So, it's better that you get a tutor who won't deal with your bullshit. Who is it anyway?"

Billingsley shrugged, "Hey, you think if it's a girl tutor I can just give her a little something to get out of it?"

Chavo stared at the window, "Sure, sleep with the girl, but what you gonna do if it's a guy? Sleep with him too?"

Don rolled his eyes, "Shut up, Chavo."

"I'm just saying Billingsley," Chavez said, looking at Don as the car stopped. "Just get a C in English and it'll be fine. A few hours of tutoring isn't gonna kill you."

"Yeah," They both got out of the car, and Chavez jumped into the front seat. "You're not the one at school on a Saturday at nine in the fucking morning."

Chavez laughed, "Yeah, I know. I'll go home and sleep now. See you later, ass wipe."

Don Billingsley shook his head, sighed, and looked up at the sun behind his aviator type sunglasses, as he gnawed at this gum. "God, this is hell," He said, turning around to walk into the main building of the school.

- - - - - - - -

"This is so fucking gay," Dylan Reyes mumbled into her phone, her face against the cold feeling of the school desk. The voice on the other side laughed, and Dylan's head rose, raising an eyebrow, "How is this any way funny?"

"I don't know. You're tutoring someone," Dylan's best friend, Ferris, said on the other line. "You're not the smartest person either. How did you get this job?"

Dylan groaned, "Everybody else in my AP English class is tutoring someone in English or another subject already. I got shanghaied into doing it." Ferris laughed lowly, trying not to let Dylan hear his hysterical fit, "Shut up, Ferret. What are you doing talking to me at nine in the morning anyway? Loser."

Ferris sighed, "I'll pick you up later, then?"

Dylan smiled, "Yes, please."

"Bye, asshole," Ferris said, and Dylan replied with a, "Bye, pansy."

- - - - - - - - -

Lifting his head up, Billingsley perked up, hearing the voice of a female, calling someone a pansy. Poking his head into the room before entering, he peeked at the girl with almost jet black hair, her head dropped back, and stared at the ceiling as she sighed.

Seeing him as she stretched back, she quickly sat up, and stared at him. Don stared, without saying a word, just staring at her small face, porcelain-like tan skin, and her extremely light brown eyes, "Don Billingsley?"

Don nodded, "Don Billingsley."

"Well come on student, let's learn and get this over with," She said, and Don smiled. Maybe his Saturday morning hell sessions wouldn't be so bad if she was his tutor. "First off, I don't wanna be here. I don't think you want to be here either, so if we just cooperate, we can get this done quicker. Sound good?"

Don chuckled, and leaned back into his chair, "Yeah, it sounds really good." He said, as she sat up straight and looked away, surprised at how deep his voice was. "What's your name? How long have you been in our school?"

Dylan looked up, and smiled a little, "Unnecessary questions."

Billingsley furrowed his eyebrows at first, and then nodded with a smirk in tact, as his unknown tutor girl looked through her books.


	2. No Chance

"So," Billingsley said, as he and Dylan sat there in the hallway of the school, waiting to get a phone call instead of them sitting in the dehydrating Texas heat that could make both of them pass out. "You like football?"

Dylan looked over at him, "No. I prefer hockey. The violence entertains me." Looking away, Billingsley pouted a little at her answer and serious tone, knowing she wasn't kidding. He was pretty sure she knew she was talking to a Permian football player too.

"Uh, yeah, hockey's interesting," He muttered, looking away. He didn't know what else to say to that. He actually had no idea how to handle a girl like her at all. She didn't blush around him. She didn't jump right on him. He was sure she wasn't planning on creating a rice krispie action like figure of him. He wasn't sure what to do with a girl who wasn't attracted to him, but almost disgusted by him. But he had to find out who she was. He had to. It would drive him crazy. "So you're not gonna tell me your name, tutor girl?"

"Not a chance," Dylan said, expressionless, smiling as Billingsley looked away.

Both of their heads turned to look forward where a grungy looking kid, with spiked brown hair, and a plain white t-shirt walked through. He was skinny, and had chicken arms. Squinting, he spotted Dylan, yelling out her name. "Dylan! What the hell ya doin? Come on! It's hot as balls outside." He yelled, echoing in the hallway.

"Damn," Dylan mumbled, turning her head to the left a little, to shield her face from Billingsley, who smiled. Picking up her bag, she stood up, and looked down at him. "I'm Dylan."

"Hi, Dylan," Billingsley smiled up at her, laughing inside.

"See you tomorrow, student," She said, turning around, and walking to the door, where the boy with her, stared at Don, probably asking Dylan about him.

"Hm," Don licked his bottom lip, completely entertained by Dylan 'tutor girl.' "She's cute," He mumbled to himself, leaning his back against the locker, cursing Chavez for taking his time on his way to pick him up.

- - - - - -

"So, that's Don Billingsley," Ferris nodded, making an impressed face. He looked down at Dylan raising an eyebrow at him, and giving him a dirty look. "What? I'm just saying he's good looking."

"I'll tell him you said that tomorrow," Dylan said, looking down at her shoes.

"You know what I mean," Ferris said, and Dylan shook her head.

"Uh no, I still think you're a pansy," Dylan said, her voice calm and tired.

"And I still think you're an asshole. I mean, do your knees start shaking at the sight of him? Does he wink and you blush? Did you hint him into giving him your number?" Dylan looked up, as Ferris's eyebrows went up and down, creating lines in his forehead, his spikes pointing into the air, bouncing up and down like his eyebrows were.

Dylan smiled, Ferris's questions and facial expressions making her laugh loudly. After releasing her giddiness, usually only seen by her brothers and Ferris, she got herself together. "I didn't even tell him my name until you yelled it out loud for me. Thanks for that, by the way. It's strictly 'hey student, sit your ass down, do some learnin, and just get this over with so this hellish ordeal can be over soon.'"

"Well, I'm glad your priorities are straight," Ferris gave a nod, as they got into his car. "What are we doing now?"

"Well, I'm sleeping on your couch. You can gallivant around the town if you'd like, pansy," Dylan smirked, pulling her seat belt over her.

"Since you're basically my best friend, pretty damn sad, I gotta say, I guess I'll sleep too," Ferris started up his car.

"You mean, you're gonna pretend to sleep on the floor, and then pull out your homework because you actually like school, and enjoy the title of 'geek'?" Dylan asked, and Ferris looked over at her.

"Yeah," Ferris mumbled.

"You should get a girlfriend," Dylan said, looking out the window.

"That is true," Ferris sighed. "You should get a boyfriend." Dylan stayed silent. "Hey, I think Don Billingsley doesn't have a girlfriend this week. Jump on it."

Dylan groaned, staring out the window, "Shut up."

- - - - - - - - - -

"It took you forever," Don said, getting into Chavez's car.

"Well, it's you that I'm picking up Saturday morning, so I think you're giving me a thank you," Chavez said, speeding out of the parking lot.

"You're an ass. I was in school," Don looked at Chavez, as Chavez looked back at him. "Alone."

"You can jump out now," Chavez said, making a right towards his house. "How was tutoring?"

Don smiled, "Pretty good, actually."

"So, it's a girl tutor, which means you didn't pay attention at all," Chavez said, and Don nodded.

"You know me well," Don said, and dropped the English book onto the floor. "You know a Dylan?"

"Wait, did you have a guy tutor or something and just got a crush on him?" Chavez asked, and Billingsley glared. "Oh no, wait. Dylan, she's-"

"Extremely cute, borderline hot? Mysterious? Kind of a jerk?" Billingsley listed, "Yeah, that's her."

"Oh, then it's the right Dylan I was thinking about," Chavez gave a nod. "You have no chance, you know that, right?"

"What do you mean?" This was foreign to him.

"She's not the type to go out with you. You're popular. She lives to contrast that," Chavez said, and Billingsley raised an eyebrow.

"Do you know her?" He asked, and Chavez sighed, knowing the new piece of information would just encourage him.

"She's my next door neighbor," Chavez said, rolling his eyes, not even having to look at Billingsley to know that a grin appeared on his face.

"No one can be denied of Don Billingsley," Billingsley said, his head high, his pride overflowing from his ears.

"And Don Billingsley also has no shame," Chavez mumbled, shaking his head.

This wasn't going to be good.

- - - - - - -

_A/N: Reviews, please._

_The summary of the story is still being worked on until I can find a decent one. It's been changed again to this: _

_[Friday Night Lights Don Billingsley expected to improve his writing and grammar with his tutor sessions, but he never expected that he would learn the frustration of being vulnerable._

_Oh, and of course, I only own Dylan and the one she calls Ferret._


	3. Dislike and Disappointment

_Disclaimer: Don't own anything except Dylan and Ferret  
_

_A/N: **RedHot911** officially gets an award. She reviews a lot of my stories and they always make me happy, so this chapter is for her. It's nice to see some story alerts for this, and the hits are telling me that people are reading, so please, leave some feedback you guys. Tell me what you guys like, dislike, and would like to see happen or something I should elaborate on? Anything is fine. Enjoy the chapter. There's more depth to Billingsley instead of the relentless jock attitude he's portrayed with so far. _

- - - - - - -

"Maybe your boyfriend will say hi to you in the hallway, and a bunch of cheerleaders will either be your best friend or hate you a lot a lot," Ferris said, as he got out of the passenger seat of Dylan's car.

Dylan stared at Ferris. She was tired of his constant jokes about Billingsley making her go head over heels, when it wasn't even a consideration in her mind. She didn't care. She was just annoyed. Dylan walked, not waiting for Ferris, "I need a new best friend anyway."

"Aw," Ferris ran up next to her. "That kinda hurts, you know."

Dylan looked up at him, "Wow. That's funny. You say it like I care."

Ferris narrowed his eyes a little, and nodded, "Touché."

- - - - - - - - - -

"You know," Billingsley said, walking through the halls, in the middle of Chavez and Winchell. "I think I'm gonna ask that girl to make me another rice krispy thing of me."

Winchell rolled his eyes.

"What's her name again?" Billingsley asked Chavo, who glared a little, and shrugged. "Damn. Maybe some other girl can then."

Looking forward, Billingsley saw as Dylan opened the door for herself, and quickly pulled the door closed purposely so Ferris couldn't get in. Standing there in defeat, giving up on trying to opening it against Dylan's strength, Ferris stood there. Dylan gave a laugh, and walked away, letting him open it for himself. Billingsley smiled, as Chavo looked up at him, and shook his head.

"Hey, Dylan," Billingsley said, loudly, making all the girls look, and Dylan looked up, first confused, then slightly annoyed.

Chuckling, Ferris walked up next to Dylan, as they both walked past. "Student," Dylan said, giving a nod. She smiled a little, as she looked at Chavez, "Hey, kid."

"Hey," Chavo said, back with a smile. Watching her walk away, he looked over at Billingsley, who glared at him, and Mike, who had an obvious smirk.

"Who was that?" Mike asked, entertained immediately by Dylan. "I like her, she's funny."

- - - - - - - - - - - -

"Look!" Billingsley yelled, making Dylan jump slightly in her seat, not even hearing him run down the hall.

She turned her head, away from her homework, and stared at him grinning at the door way. She was surprised, considering the way she treated him the day before when he said hi to her in the hallway. She thought that he would get the point it was strictly business, with no pleasure in tutoring him at all. But her resistance to him even made her question herself. She seemed to dislike him more than other people, for no reason at all.

Furrowing her eyebrows, Dylan stared at the football figure made of something edible. She stared at it, oddly, "What the hell is that?" She asked slowly, looking around it.

"It's me. In rice krispy. Isn't it cool?" Billingsley said, turning it around in circles to show her the circumference of it.

Dylan nodded a little, looked around at the side, as Billingsley sat down. "Impressive, I guess. Lots of work, for something so unnecessary." Making a 'hm' sound, Dylan took her hand, and quickly popped off the head.

Gasping in pure shock, Billingsley's jaw dropped and he stared at her, half surprised, because he didn't expect it at all, and angry because she took the first piece.

"Now, let's get to work," Dylan said, chomping onto her snack for that Tuesday, since Billingsley was the reason she was stuck at school for an extra hour after the last, yet exciting and relieving bell would ring indicating the school day was over. Except for her.

Pouting and glaring, Billingsley pulled out his English text book, and continued to glare at her, as she didn't even realize his evil gaze.

"Question," Dylan said, looking up, and giving him a look for looking at her the way he did. "Why am I tutoring you?"

"What kind of question is that?" Billingsley asked, genuinely confused. He needed help. That was that. He needed a lot of it, even from a girl he seemed interested in for no reason at all considering the way she treated him, and her social status. He didn't understand the attraction, and he didn't even give it any mind at this point. He was mad. She popped off his head.

"I mean, it's only been a few weeks since school started," She said, looking into the air confused, her pen sticking up from her finger tips. "Isn't it weird that you're already doing badly in English? I mean, almost all the AP kids are tutoring football players. Actually all the AP students are tutoring, because I was the most reluctant one. But why? You guys all can't be doing horribly this early in the year."

"It's not that we're doing badly in English," Billingsley said, chewing loudly. "It's that we can't risk doing badly in any subject. We need to be tutored in the subject, or subjects we suck at the most, so we won't be able to slip, so we can play football."

"Ah, football," Dylan nodded.

"Yeah, football," Don said, his tone more definite, and not scared of her. "Football means everything to us. It's our life, and we can't let stupid things like English get in our way. Football is what we do. Football is what we care about. Football is us. English is just something we have to get over with to play, and get credit in. It's not what we live for. It's not our passion."

Dylan looked up at him, slowly. It was the first she ever heard Billingsley had a heart. She heard what Billingsley was about from everyone else in the school. He was about getting girls to make rice krispy figures of him. He was about sleeping with girls, and messing up their names. He wasn't about telling girls how much football meant to him. It surprised her, which was why she stared at him staring at her.

"Well then," She looked down. She now understood why tutoring was something that had to be done. "The tutoring must continue."

He looked away, feeling the sudden awkwardness against his nemesis. For some weird reason, he told her what football meant to him. What it meant to the team. He usually only talked to the team about football, never to a girl before. Which was why it confused him as to why he confessed something to the girl who didn't give a damn about him, or falter to his flirtatious ways.

"One more question," Don asked, while she took her notebook out. "Why do you hate me?"

"It's not hate. It's just a dislike, I guess," She shrugged a little. "Don't be offended. I don't like many people other than my best friend and my two brothers."

Feeling some type of tug at his heart, Billingsley looked down. He wasn't supposed to feel that tug. He didn't care about it. Right? Well, she didn't care about him, so he didn't care about her. He tried to tell himself she was being sarcastic, but the look on her face told him that he wasn't so sure of that.

"What about Chavez? I heard you guys knew each other when you were younger. He's your neighbor, right?" Don asked, a hint of jealously in his voice.

"Chavez is good, I guess," Dylan said, sitting up, and looking at him oddly, noticing the tone. "Now, can we get down to business? I'm sure you wanna be out there with your friends or your new girl for the week."

"Hey, why do you think I have a new girl every week? How can you just assume that I'm the way you think I am?" Billingsley asked, thinking he had her backed into a corner.

Dylan gave a short 'hah' and stared straight into his eyes, "Then have people say something different about you. Because it's not like you're making an effort to make girls or any other person in this school believe you're something other than a football and girl playing jock."

With that, Billingsley stared back at her, realizing what she was saying was true. No matter how much he disliked her attitude, and the way she judged him, it wasn't like her judgment was wrong. Billingsley was living the cliché of jock player, that he and his friends followed, and he didn't even try to change it.

"Now student, this hour, we're doing…" Billingsley pretended to look at the paper she was writing on, but his mind was off to a place where her words were ringing constantly.


	4. Childhood Sweethearts

_Disclaimer: Don't own anything in this chapter except implied characters and Dylan. _

_A/N: This chapter is pretty much a Dylan and Chavo conversation. You get to see how the relationship, which is always fun. Reviews, please. Your feedback is always helpful. _

- - - - - -

"I said, why are you getting tutored, Donnie?" His harsh voice always chilled Don's blood. It was evident in his voice. The disappointment was always in his voice. The fear of getting hit upside his head was always there, and he flinched every inch he felt his father get closer. It was just a regular night at Billingsley house during football season. Just a regular night.

"Uh, all of the team is getting tutored just in case," Don said, washing the last dish in the sink, as his dad lay on the couch, a beer in his hand.

"I think you kids are doing too much damn learnin' in those schools," Billingsley looked up at the couch, his dad's head peaking at the top. "It should be about football. Always be about football."

Wiping his hands on the towel, Don grabbed his car keys. "Uh, Dad, I'm heading over to Chavo's." His dad was silent. "Uh, I'll be home later." He mumbled, closing the door behind him. Billingsley looked back at his house, and at the sign telling the whole town who he was, and who his father was. Everyone knew his family in Odessa. Everyone. Yet nobody, not even Billingsley knew what to do, other than just make his father proud.

- - - - - - - - -

"Dylan!" Her father yelled. It became louder and louder with every step she took towards the door. "Dylan! Come back here! I'm talking to you, girl!"

Rolling her eyes, Dylan opened the screen door, and slammed it shut. Her older brother, Derek, wasn't home to take the heat that their father would always give out. But he always had the responsibility of doing that. It was her turn that night. Derek was tired of the yelling and the beatings. He needed the break. But it wasn't like Dylan could just drive away from the house. Her younger brother, Danny, was still in his room. He was listening to music to block out the noise of the world, as he indulged in a good book, as he always did.

But now she needed a breath of fresh air. With every word her father yelled in her face, it made her feel like she was suffocating.

Sighing, Dylan sat on the edge of the street, putting her hands in head, "I hate this fucking town."

"You always have," She heard a voice mumble, and she turned around to see Brian Chavez walking out of his own house, towards her. "Even when we were younger, you weren't quite made for this town." He sat down beside her, "Always destined for something bigger."

She smiled a little. She hadn't talked to Chavo in a while. "Everyone is destined for something bigger in this town. I mean, look at everyone's families. Every kid just has to get out for their own health." Chavo looked down, "Well, except yours. Other than the minor arguments, your family is actually in it together."

"Your family is together too," He said, and she looked at him oddly. "Well, if you count your brothers and you as a family. Your dad is just kind of cut out of the family picture." Dylan tried to smile back, but looked down. "Your mom fit the family, though."

Dylan nodded, "Yeah, she _was_ the family." Chavo stared at the street along with her. He was there when her mother died. He was there all the nights Dylan would bring Danny to her house as Derek told them to run so he would get the beatings and they wouldn't be in the house to witness it. He was there for her and whether she knew it or not, he was still ready to open the door when or if she ever ran over for help.

"You know," Chavez muttered, giving a nod. "Your dad reminds me of Billingsley's dad." Dylan quickly looked up at him, surprised that he brought him up. "You know about Billingsley and his dad, right?"

Dylan nodded, "The whole town knows."

"Maybe it'll give you guys something to get along with," Chavez said, and Dylan gave a short laugh. "He thinks you really hate him."

Dylan stared at her shoes. The subject was making her uncomfortable. Just talk of Billingsley's name always got some type of emotion out of her. "I don't. I just dislike everyone."

Chavez gave a little shrug, while shaking his head. "I really tried to tell him. He just won't listen to me. He's really trying to make an effort to connect to you."

"Because I'm a challenge?" Dylan asked, and Chavez thought. He had a feeling by the way Dylan affected Billingsley that it wasn't just the chase anymore. He couldn't put his finger on it, but Billingsley somehow cared what Dylan thought. Or maybe it was just 'cause he connected with her in a way that didn't involve touching.

"No, it's not only that," Chavez said, and Dylan stared at him, unbelievingly. "Fine, I know that look. Don't believe me. But you'll see it eventually. Block him as much as possible for now, but you'll see it."

Dylan nodded slowly, and Chavez let the silence take them for a moment, just enjoying sitting there with his childhood friend.

"So, why did we break up as children?" She asked, making Chavo laugh a little. "I mean, if we stayed together, we could have had conversations like this instead of me just telling you I want you to buy me a big dog when we grow up."

"Well," Chavo looked at her. "I think it was because we realized the opposite sex had cooties."

"Right," Dylan nodded. "That was it. It becomes clear to me now. Even though my brothers are of your species, I still thought you were covered with cooties." The two sat there. Dylan sighed, staring up at night sky, remembering as she and Chavo, even as five year old would sit on the curb and stare at the stars. She looked over at him, realizing they weren't kids anymore, and how much distance grew between them.

"Dylan!" Dylan closed her eyes at the raspy voice, and groaned.

"If you need to run over, I'll open the door for you," Chavez said, as Dylan looked over at him, giving him a 'thank you' smile. Getting up, she held a hand out to Chavez, and helped him get up.

Walking away, Dylan turned her head to the left to look at him as he also entered his house. "Hey," He looked over at her, and she pointed. "You still owe me a big dog."

- - - - - - - - - -

In confusion, Billingsley stared at one of the photos that he found in an album sitting around. "Chavo," He said, and looked towards the kitchen. "In this picture," Billingsley held the album up, "Who is the girl you're holding hands with?"

Chavo closed the refrigerator door, and turned to face Billingsley. "Uh, it's Dylan."

Billingsley raised an eyebrow, looked down at the picture, and pointed. "You guys are holding hands," He said, not understanding. "Why are you guys holding hands? You guys were just friends, right? Next door neighbor friends?"

"Uh, no," Chavo said, walking into the dining room, and stood above Billingsley. "We were, uh," Billingsley looked up at him. "Going out. Kind of like childhood sweethearts kind of thing."

"You didn't tell me that," Billingsley glared a little. "When was this? How long? Did you guy's like love each other or something?" Billingsley glanced back at the picture and stared at the smiling face of Dylan, with her eyes clamped shut since she was laughing, and they got smaller than they already were.

Chavo's eyes got wider with every question, as well as confused. "Calm down. We were younger. We just called each other boyfriend and girlfriend because we were four and our moms thought it was cute how I followed her around." Billingsley looked down at the picture, and stared, not saying anything. "It stopped when we were six. I realized she was a girl. She realized I was a boy and not one of her brothers." Billingsley stayed quiet, "What is with you?"

Don shook his head, "I really don't know." He looked up at Chavo, "This girl makes me so mad. But there's something about her, that I can't just push her out of my mind."

"The chase kills you," Chavo said, gulping down water.

"It's not that," Billingsley said, looking at him. "I don't know what it is, though." Chavo put his glass down, and looked back. He was completely serious. "But she has this image of me already, that I can't live down, because it's true. It doesn't seem like she's gonna change her mind, and let me in. Or let anyone in if you think about it." He shot Chavo a glare, "Maybe except you, since you had that puppy love kind of thing with her. Lucky bastard."

Chavo laughed, "Well." He started, "I got to talk to her last night."

"Damn it, Chavo. If you take this one just because you have home field advantage, I am going to kick your ass," Billingsley said, and Chavo stopped laughing.

"I was going to say, until you threatened me, that I talked you up a little. I don't know if she's gonna listen, but she did hear me," Chavo said, and Billingsley nodded. "A thank you is in order, you know."

"Is she home?" He asked, and Chavo rolled his eyes.

"Thanks for the appreciation," Chavo mumbled. "I don't know. Plus, you don't really wanna go to her house."

"Why not?"

"Because her dad could be your dad's best friend," Chavo said, and Billingsley looked down. "They'd get along great."

"Well, maybe we should check," Billingsley said, and Chavo shook his head.

"She wouldn't like it at all. I don't think we should-"

"Come on, Chavo," Billingsley interrupted, before letting Chavo finish. He stood up, and walked out the door, as Chavo groaned, getting up to follow him.


	5. Full House

_Disclaimer: Don't own anything except Dylan, her siblings, and Ferris. Basically the only people who exist in her tiny world. _

_A/N: There's been a much better response to the last chapter than before, so thanks so much for putting this story on story alert, your favorites, or leaving a review. They mean a lot, and I appreciate them. Anyway, in this chapter Dylan's brothers come into the story: Derek and Danny. They're cute, you'll like them. Not much than that, so please review, you guys, and leave some feedback._

- - - - - - - - -

"No really, this is not a good idea," Chavo said, running up to catch up with Billingsley, who already was at the Reyes household front door. As if he didn't hear a word Chavo was saying, Don pressed the door bell, and waited, as Chavo shook his head. "I won't be surprised if she opens the door and punches you right in the face."

In anticipation, Billingsley leaned to his right, wanting to see who opened the door. Confused, he stared at the teenager boy staring back at him, a protective face already in tact. He had black hair like Dylan, and almond shape light brown Asian eyes that the three kids got from their half Chinese mother. His hair was spiked, and dressed down in pajamas.

Looking at Chavo, his face loosened up into something friendlier, yet still angry at the time he was woken up.

"Hey, Derek," Chavo said, and Billingsley remembered automatically why he looked so familiar. He was Derek Reyes. He tried out for the football team in middle school just to make his dad shut up, and purposely did horribly just to upset his father.

"Hey, Chavez," Derek replied, rubbing his eyes to clear his vision. "What's up?"

Chavo looked at Billingsley, cursing him for putting him in this situation. "Is your dad home?" Derek shook his head, answering an angry no. "Is your sister home?"

Derek nodded, "Yeah, she's still sleeping."

"Well, she's gonna get a kick out of this when she wakes up. See, this kid is in love with your sister," Chavo pointed, and Billingsley's eyes got wide.

"Hey man, I-I'm not in love with your sister," Don shook his head. "I mean, I barely even like your sister." Derek raised an eyebrow, and Don closed his eyes, swearing he was gonna get punched in the face for putting it that way. "I mean, well-"He sighed. "She's my tutor."

"Ooh," Derek said, and smiled a little. "So you're the reason she comes home aggravated she has to wake up early on weekends, and stay later after school."

Don nodded, "Yeah, that's me."

"Well, come on in." Derek moved to the side, "It'll be really funny to see what happens when she finds out you're here."

Walking in, Billingsley mumbled, "Yeah, she doesn't like me. She kinda hates me." Chavo rolled his eyes, as Billingsley complained.

"No, she doesn't hate you," Derek said, closing the door. "She just dislikes mostly everyone."

- - - - - - - - -

In annoyance to how loud the television was, Dylan groaned loudly as she pulled her covers off of her, and decided to just give up on going back to sleep.

Rubbing her eyes, Dylan yelled, "Why the hell is the TV so damn loud and why are you even awake at this time? It's not past two, Derek."

Opening her eyes a little, they quickly snapped wide open seeing Billingsley, her brother, and Chavo sitting on the couch relaxing. Blinking, Dylan looked around her.

Confused, Derek asked, "You okay there?"

Looking up at him, Dylan blinked once more. "I think," She said, looking at her feet. "I am still sleeping."

The boys burst into laughter, and Dylan frowned. "Okay," She sighed. "So I'm not dreaming, but what the hell are you doing here?"

Derek and Chavo looked at Billingsley who sat between them, "I'm hanging out with your brother, what's it look like?"

Dylan chuckled a little, and mumbled, "Gonna go wake up Danny then. It's not fair if he gets to sleep right through the insanity. Oh, and the Ferret's coming soon, I presume. It's a Saturday and the cartoons are over."

Billingsley glared at her back, "I really like how she stares at me like I'm stupid when I'm nice to her, and laughs when I'm mean."

"She is a character," Chavo said, leaning back into the couch.

"She's weird," Derek muttered, changing the channel.

"Hey, where's Mike?" Billingsley asked, and Chavo thought.

"Just home, I think," Chavo said, shrugging a little.

Derek looked over at them, "Mike Winchell?" The two nodded, "He was the only kid I talked to, other than Chavez when I was trying out. Tell him to come here. It'll be fun when my dad gets home. He'll hate it."

- - - - - - - - - - -

"Danny," Dylan mumbled, poking her little brother, who just raised the blanket over his head, hearing her voice. Smirking, Dylan proceeded to go back to when Danny was only a year old, and she would say, 'Danny. Danny boy. Daanny boy' in a childish manner.

In annoyance to her doing this, Danny sat up, his hair sticking up all over the place, "What, Dylan?" He asked, groggy, and she smiled brightly at him.

"Good morning, sunshine! It's time to get up," Dylan said, taking his arm, and pulling him out of bed. Snatching his arm away from her, he walked out of his room in a huff.

To annoy him even more, she ran out of his room, and jumped onto his back, causing him to fall unexpectedly, and crash onto the floor. To make the situation better, Billingsley and Chavo were at the end of the hallway, walking into the kitchen to make the phone call.

Hurriedly, Derek hopped off the couch, to look into the crash landing, with Dylan crushing Danny into the wooden floor, as Dylan laughed hysterically to the point of not breathing. Laughing loudly, Derek pointed at his siblings and cackled loudly enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.

Getting up, Dylan pulled Danny up by the shoulders, and dusted him off. "Heh, sorry, Danny."

Sighing, Danny turned around, and walked past Dylan back into his room.

"Aw, Danny, I am sorry. I actually mean it," Dylan said, and Danny looked at her.

He nodded, "I know. It's fine." He narrowed his eyes a little, "Just don't wake me up anymore."

"Sure thing," Dylan said, giving a nod, and smiling, as Danny gave a little smile back before closing his door.

"Good job, Dylan. You almost paralyzed Danny with your weight," Derek said, as Dylan passed by him, and almost pushed him completely over.

With nothing else said, Dylan walked by the boys and walked right into her room, trying to ignore that Billingsley was even in her house. The last thing she ever expected to happen.

"Ey, you're not watching the football game?" Derek yelled, with no response from his sister who locked herself in her room.

"Wait," Billingsley turned to face Derek, as Chavo called up Winchell. "She watches football?"

Derek laughed, and Billingsley raised an eyebrow.

"Oh," Derek stopped laughing. "You're not kidding."

"No, I didn't think she watched football. She told me she didn't. She said she liked hockey," Billingsley said, and Derek furrowed his eyebrows.

"She loves football," Derek said, looking at Billingsley as if he was stupid. "She loves hockey, too. But after football."

Looking down, Billingsley shook her head. "Man, she flat out lied to me."

"Yeah, she did," Derek said, nodding.

Immediately after hanging up the phone, Chavo burst into laughter, only muttering the few words he could muster up, "She told you she didn't like football?" Billingsley glared, "Dylan not liking football. That's the funniest thing I've ever heard."

"I'm sure it's not so funny when you realize that she's the first girl to ever tackle you, and you lay there in pain," Derek said, chuckling.

He said it because he could see the disappointment in Billingsley's eyes. He wanted him to feel just a little better, knowing that his sister was pretty oblivious in hurting other people. It wasn't that she didn't know she was being mean, it's just that she doesn't care much or at all for the people outside of her world, consisting only of her brothers and Ferris. He knew this about her, but felt bad for the boy who was trying to cover up how much it bothered him by a fake laugh and smile.


	6. Bueller

_Disclaimer: Don't own anything except Derek, Dylan, and Ferret._

_A/N: Nothing really to say about the chapter, it's just one for laughs and to open up a soon to come realization for Ferris about Dylan. Thanks for the reviews for the last chapter, and please review, because feedback is always helpful._

- - - - - - - - - - -

Running out of her room, towards the front door, hearing the first ring of the doorbell, Dylan slid around the kitchen with her socks on.

"Jeez, Ferret, what took ya so long?" Dylan asked, as she opened the door. Shoulders sulking, Dylan cocked her head to the right and stared at Mike Winchell. He was standing in front of her, confused as to why the girl standing in front of him looked caught in the emotions of angry and surprised.

"Uh," Mike said, raising an eyebrow. "Ferret?"

Looking inside, watching her brother sit on the couch with two football players, and one standing awkwardly in front of her, she asked herself, "What the fuck is going on today?"

"What?" Mike asked, and Dylan shook her head, stepping to the side.

"Nothing, nothing," She muttered. "Mike Winchell, right?" He nodded. "Welcome to the humble abode, suddenly graced with the presence of the Permian Panthers."

Mike stared at her, confused to what she was saying, and entertained at the same time. "Thanks," He said, with a smirk.

"Mike!" Billingsley yelled, joyfully, making Dylan roll her eyes at his big and loud voice. "Come here, sit!"

Mike gave a nod, and walked over, his hands in his pockets.

Staring, Dylan watched as Mike sat on the couch, filling it up from end to end with boys laughing and grinning as if they were five. Hearing the doorbell ring four times, pause, one more ring, pause, and then the last ring, Dylan rolled her eyes knowing it was Ferris's "secret ring" so she knew it was him.

"Why ello there, madam," Ferris said in a British accent, as Dylan opened the door. He stepped in, "Your Dad's not here today, right? I'm not up for some Reyes intimidation. I'm pretty sure I've had my fair share in- what-" Ferris stopped himself, seeing over Dylan, looking straight into the living room, seeing the three football players, and Derek getting chummy with them. "What the hell happened? Did you know Don Billingsley is sitting on your couch?"

Dylan stared at Ferris before replying, sarcastically, "No. I did not know that. Will you refresh my memory? Again?!" Dylan yelled in a whisper the word 'again,' making Ferris jump.

"Jeez, don't yell whisper at me, he's the one on your couch," Ferris said, giving a nod at the guys, who looked over at him. "Hey, Chavo. Haven't seen you around here in a while." Chavo replied with a wave of his hand, and a 'Hey, Ferris' in return.

Derek gave a nod, and Ferris nodded back. Derek saw him everyday. There was no need for a decent hello.

Standing up, Winchell and Billingsley made their way to Ferris, who looked at Dylan, and gave her a mocking smile. She glared in return knowing he was laughing inside.

"Hey man," Billingsley started. "I'm Don Billingsley."

"Ferris-"

"Bueller," Dylan muttered.

"Ferris-"

"Ferret Bueller," Dylan muttered again.

"Ferris!" Ferris yelled in annoyance that he couldn't even get his last name out.

"Jeez, Ferret, there is no need to spit in the faces of these boys," Dylan said, peering up at Ferris, who glared down at her.

Letting out one laugh, all eyes were drawn to Mike, who held his hand out, after Billingsley shook hands with Ferris. "I'm Mike Winchell."

Ferris nodded, "So, this hanging out at Dylan's place? It's gonna become a daily thing, right?"

Dylan groaned loudly, let her head roll back, and closed her eyes. Hearing Ferris quietly laughing at this, Dylan slapped a hand at his chest without him knowing, and without her looking, as she mumbled, "You. Get out."

Holding his chest, and rubbing it to make the stinging go away, Ferris muttered, "Great girl, isn't she?"

Watching as Ferris walked away to follow Dylan into her room, Billingsley looked at Mike, to see him laughing and grinning. Billingsley's eyes got wide at the sight, and Mike looked up at him.

"God, she's funny. I really like her," Winchell said, turning around and walking back to the couch, where Chavo was excitedly pointing at Mike, laughing at the entertainment that Dylan and Ferris provided.

- - - - - - - -

"It's great to see that this entertains you so much," Dylan said, sitting on her bed, as Ferris walked in, grinning. "My pain and misery."

"God, that's not dramatic at all," Ferris mumbled, and Dylan didn't change her facial expression. Seeing that she was serious, Ferris sat at the end of her bed, and sighed. "Okay, I'm sorry I've been teasing so much with the whole Billingsley thing, but I always tease you like this with everything, and you tease me two times worse." Dylan nodded, "Then why is it bothering you so much when I tease you about _him_?"

"I always dislike everyone, Ferret," Dylan mumbled.

"Yes, that's true. No denying it. But that wasn't even my question," Ferris said, and Dylan looked up at him. "It's like you truly hate him for no reason. It's that or you're trying to really keep him away despite his efforts to talk to you, and get to know you. Why?"

Dylan shrugged, "I don't know. I just don't want to be chummy with him." Ferris stared. "What?" Ferris quickly analyzed Dylan's blushing face, and angry expression. "Ferret, what?"

Ferris shook his head, "Nothing."

Dylan sat up, "Now how do I get them out of my house?"

Ferris smiled, "You don't. You know, oddly enough, I think you and that Mike Winchell would get along great."

Dylan nodded, "I agree. I need a new best friend anyway."

Ferris closed his eyes, "It doesn't get old to you, and it doesn't stop hurting me, that line of yours."

"Good," Dylan mumbled, hearing the boys yell in excitement.


	7. The Name Game

_Disclaimer: Don't own anything except Dylan, Ferris, and Don's date for a few days. _

_A/N: Thanks for the reviews for the last chapter; it's nice to see constant reviewers. Not much to say, except I hope you guys like the chapter, and please review to tell me what you guys think._

- - - - - - - - - - - -

"Hey," Billingsley said, as Dylan passed by him, ready to leave the house with Ferris. "Liar," He snarled, and Dylan raised an eyebrow at him, half surprised half trying not to laugh at how he spat the word at her.

"Liar?" Dylan asked, knowing Billingsley was expecting some kind of retaliation.

"Yes. You are a liar," Billingsley said, in a 'matter-a-fact' way. 

"Oh," Dylan nodded. "Okay," She said before walking away.

"Wait!" Billingsley called after her, and she turned to face him. "Don't you want to know why you're a liar?"

Dylan pretended to think, "Sure, I guess. Even if I said no, you'd tell me."

"Well," Billingsley spat again, "football lover." Dylan smirked. "You said you dislike football, and liked hockey more."

"Did I?" Dylan asked, and Billingsley nodded, his blonde hair bouncing. "Oops."

"Oops?" Billingsley asked to an expressionless Dylan, disregarding the smirk on her lips. "What about 'sorry I lied to you?'"

"Why would I say that?" Dylan asked, as Billingsley groaned loudly, almost above the loud TV in the living room, where two boys watched with awe, and one boy looked as if he could feel the people crashing him into the ground; Ferris being the one feeling the pain, of course.

"Fine, be like that then," Billingsley muttered, looking extremely disappointed, without even trying to hide it.

"Okay, okay," Dylan said, walked farther from the door and closer to him. "I'll be nicer."

Billingsley's face brightened, "Really?"

"No, not really," Dylan said, straight faced. As Billingsley's face fell, and turned into frustration…again. "But I'll ease up on you, okay?"

Billingsley thought, and Dylan eyebrows went up waiting for him to contemplate an answer, "Okay."

"All right, good. Now stop looking so damn depressed," Dylan said, and Don smiled a little. "Ferret, come on. You don't even know what's going on in the game."

Ferris turned around quickly to face Dylan, and glared at her for embarrassing him in front of guys. But, it's not like they didn't know. So he shrugged and walked back to Dylan, shook Billingsley's hand, as Don mumbled a 'nice meeting you.'

"Oh, you too, you too," Ferris mumbled as Don let go of his hand, and Ferris shook it a little to take away the pain from Billingsley's grip. Waiting until Dylan walked out the door; Ferris leaned into Don and mumbled, "Stick to the tutoring session with Dylan. She'll ease up on you, I think, so stick with it. If she doesn't ease up on you, well then…I guess I owe you a lot of money." Jumping a little at Dylan yelling, 'Ferret,' Ferris quickly walked out the door, and closed it behind him leaving a confused Don Billingsley, standing in the kitchen.

- - - - - - - - - -

Staring at the ground, Don Billingsley's eyes dried with every second since he couldn't find himself able to blink. He was too focused on what Ferris had said to him. What did he mean by that? There were a million reasons to why Ferris could have said that, and Billingsley was trying not to think that it could possibly mean that Dylan was somehow, and somewhere in her resistance to him was she vulnerable to him.

"Ow, Don," The girl, whose fingers were victims of Billingsley's thinking and frustration, said.

Snapping out of it, he loosened his grip and smiled a little at her. "Sorry, Amber," He muttered, and she smiled at the sound of him saying his name. To be honest, he was surprised that he said the right name that moment considering how preoccupied he was.

Caressing his hand with her thumb, Amber laid her other hand on Billingsley's chest, and smirked. "I love it when you say my name," She said, stood in front of him, and leaned in.

Eyes wide for a second, Billingsley smirked back; thinking hooking up with Amber would be the perfect way to get his Dylan issues out of his head.

Giggling, Amber pulled Billingsley by his hand into a near by dark alley. Automatically, she pulled down his head, crashing their lips together as they fought for power in the kiss. Wrapping her arms around his, Billingsley responded back by pulling her legs up, around his waist. Kissing his neck, Amber worked her magic, as Billingsley closed his eyes, and moaned, enjoying and not thinking at all.

"Mm, Dylan," He murmured, and Amber stopped, making Billingsley's eyes snap wide open. "Amber." He said again, trying to cover it up. He pulled away from her face, and tried to see her expression in the dark. He couldn't tell if she was angry or just surprised. He couldn't even tell from her body language considering she didn't even pull away. "Look Amber, I'm so sorry. I don't even know why I said that name. I'm, uh, not even friends with a girl named Dylan. Dylan's a girl, not a guy, by the way. Not a guy. I'm not into guys." Don closed his eyes as he rambled, and lied about not even knowing Dylan.

Surprised, Don felt Amber attach herself to his neck, and whisper, "Just don't do it again."

Raising an eyebrow, slightly confused, but not surprised by Amber's reaction, Billingsley closed his eyes trying to forget it ever happened, and just enjoy the moment. Too bad those things weren't easy to do.

- - - - - - - - - -

"So, you called Amber," Chavez paused, to look up at Billingsley, "Dylan?"

Billingsley nodded, and closed his eyes. "It sounds so much worse when someone says it."

"Because you called a girl another name that's not her own, or because it was Dylan's?"

"The second one," Billingsley said, lifting his forehead from the table. "God, what is it with this girl? Honestly, I kind of hate her." Chavo raised an eyebrow, "But then again, I don't. It's not even the mystery of it anyway. I don't know." Billingsley scooted over, closer to Chavo, who backed away in surprise. "Please tell me what is going on here."

"Uh," Chavo said, trying to get comfortable again after Billingsley practically grabbing on to him, and shaking him from the collar of his shirt. "I think," He paused, as Don waited. He just liked seeing him like this. It entertained Chavo, considering this was the first time Don got a taste of actually liking a girl. "You like her."

Don raised an eyebrow, quickly. "I can't like her. She despises me. I despise her."

"Then why are you saying her name to other girls that you're making out with?" Chavo asked, and Don pointed.

"Good point." Billingsley slapped his forehead with blunt force, and Chavo smiled. "How can I like that human hate machine? Why do I even care about her? She doesn't give a shit about me, so it should go the same way around."

"Well, I kinda think-"

"No!" Don yelled, standing up from his seat. "That's it. I'm not wasting my time with her anymore. I'm gonna forget about her. And I'm going to dispose any thoughts of her. No more saying her name when I'm on my second date with Dylan- shit!" Billingsley yelled, sitting down in the chair, his head in his eyes. "Amber. Amber. It's Amber. Shit."

Laughing to himself at his best friend's reaction and serious denial, Chavo stood up, patted Don on the back, and walked into the Billingsley living room to watch television.


	8. Running and Screaming

_Disclaimer: Don't own anything except Dylan and Ferris. _

_A/N: So it's been a while. Heh. For all my fanfics, it's been quite a while. Sorry about that you guys. College has taken over my life which doesn't let me do much writing or anything else for that matter. I got some inspiration to write a chapter for a story and I chose lovely Dylan and Billingsley. Hope some people are still reading, and I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. I see there are new alerts and favorites so thanks so much, you guys. Please leave some reviews so I know how readers like the story so far. _

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Come on. Get off your ass, and let's just go," Ferris said, sitting on the chair in Dylan's room as she sprawled across the bed.

She sat up quickly from the bed, surprising Ferris at how quick it was. She raised an eyebrow before asking, "Are you fucking serious?"

Ferris nodded. "Yeah, let's go to the game tonight."

Dylan gave a loud cackle and plopped back down onto the bed with a bouncing thud. "Right. You are completely insane, but you're funny, I'll give you that."

"No, seriously, Dylan. I wanna be a man. Let's go," Ferris said, standing up, over her.

She made a face, and retorted, "Watching a football game will not make you a man. You're far too much a pansy."

"Gee, thanks," He said, jumping onto the bed with his knees, and jumping right off. "Let's go, come ooon," Ferris whined.

"Why?" Dylan asked, sitting upward. "Because you want to see me suffer from watching Billingsley?"

"Man, Dylan, I didn't even mention Don. Got Don on the brain? Joining seventy-five percent of the girls in school?" Ferris smiled, and Dylan threw a fist at his stomach, as his butt flew back, dodging it. "I'm just kidding okay. But won't you enjoy seeing your dear student out on that field?" Dylan glared. "Haven't you been easing up on him?"

Dylan shrugged. "I don't make snide remarks as much, and we just kinda go on with tutoring. He hasn't really been pulling out 'let's be friends' moves."

"Or any moves?" Ferris asked, and Dylan glared again. "Okay, fine. What about Winchell? Let's go see Winchell. You make the kid smile, and God knows he needs to smile."

Dylan stared. "Winchell will be fine without me there tonight. I don't think he'd like to smile during a game anyway. No need to go if I won't be there to be mean just to make him laugh."

Ferris sighed. His best friend was impossible. Completely impossible. He perked up, a person coming into his mind, making him smile. "What about Chavez? Let's go see Chavez play."

Dylan stared again, but after a seemingly forever ten seconds, she snapped her fingers in defeat. "Damn you," She muttered. "Fine, but you're driving."

Ferris grinned.

"You're a jerk, Ferret," Dylan said, finally standing up, as Ferris turned her around with his hands on her shoulders leading her out the bedroom door.

"Hey, do you know you're a walking cliché right now?" Ferris said, and Dylan turned her head to look at him funny. "Yeah, yeah. I mean, tutor girl and football playing boyfriend- you know, Chavo and Winchell. Or there's the ultimate cliché story- tutor girl, who despises football playing dumb jock, who tries to win her over, as she tutors him. Suddenly, one day, she goes to one of his football games, he looks up at her, smiles with dirt and blood on his face, and she falls deeply in love- because that's what she likes of course. Blood and dirt on a man. The guy's already in love, so she's completely changed him for the better." Dylan stopped walking right in front door going outside, turned around, stared at Ferris, and tried to walk past him only to be blocked and held back with any way she took. "Nope, nope. You're already going."

"You're a jerk, Ferret," Dylan said, angrier than last time.

"Yeah, you already said that," Ferris said, with a smirk on his face, as he closed the Reyes' kitchen door.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Fidgeting, Dylan's face started to contort into many different expressions as the yelling just got louder, and the people shook the unsafe benches mercilessly.

Not being able to take it anymore, Dylan faced the person on her left, who was screaming in her ear for the past hour, and opened her mouth, yelling right in her face. The girl, confused, not really hearing Dylan from the yelling surrounding them, raised her eyebrow, as Dylan's mouth opened wide.

"Why don't you fuc-" Dylan started but felt Ferris's hand cover mouth and pull her to his side.

"Shh, shh, child, it's okay," Ferris said, his hand petting Dylan's hair as she leaned back against him.

Glaring, Dylan bit down angrily on Ferris's hand. Standing up, Dylan started to walk away, as Ferris grabbed her hand asking, "Hey, where you going?"

"Away," Dylan answered. "I don't know why you convinced me to go to this stupid thing. I can barely take people in school and they aren't centimeters away from me, yelling in my ear." Dylan turned around, looking at the girl, who watched her talking. "Yes, I was talking to you," Dylan said, as the girl made a face, rolled her eyes, and brought her attention back to the field. "I'm leaving, Ferris, I'll wait for you in the car or something."

"Aw, Dylan, come on," Ferris said, as Dylan wiggled her fingers away from his hand.

Glancing at the field to see what was going on, Dylan looked around trying to find any familiar faces that she'd been watching play the whole night, even Billingsley's. Looking around, Dylan automatically caught eye contact with the eyes she'd seen but never really looked at prior to that moment. They stared at her, and for the first time she let herself stare back. They were Billingsley's, standing there as he waited for the play to commence. Slowly, he raised his hand in the air, and waved to her. Surprised at what was going on, Dylan found herself waving back, not walking anymore, just standing.

Getting slapped on the back, Billingsley broke their moment and had to bring his attention back to the game. He looked back at Dylan, who stared, shock obviously on her face, shock from what, he wasn't even sure. He waved goodbye and ran to his position. Looking over, he found Chavo looking at him. 

"What?" Billingsley grumbled.

Chavo merely replied with a shake of his head and a shrug.

- - - - - - -

"Dylan!" Ferris yelled. He saw what had happened, and now Dylan was just standing there, blocking the view of devout as well as angry football fans. "Dylan!" He yelled once more, and finally caught her attention. She stared, and he signaled for her to come over as she surprisingly followed his gesture.

"Yeah?" She asked walking over to Ferris, whose jaw dropped slightly.

"Dude. What was that?" He asked. He couldn't even make fun of her.

"What was what?" Dylan asked, dumbfounded.

"Dylan," She stared and he pointed right at the football player running around with the number '26' marked on his back. She shrugged, "Dylan."

"Really, Ferris, I have no idea what just happened back there." Dylan sat down beside him, and she sat there, slouched not even stopping her thinking to give a dirty look to the girls next to her, whispering. They even saw it. But nobody could comprehend what it could mean.

Dylan couldn't believe it. For one quick moment, she was actually vulnerable to Don Billingsley. She wanted to pinch herself to wake up from the dream but she was almost positive that it was complete reality.


	9. Ask Her What?

_Disclaimer : Don't own anything except original characters._

_A/N: Oh, it has been a while. Blame life & college. But I'm thinking you guys will like this chapter because it answers a review someone left asking why Dylan was so closed up and basically hated almost everyone. This should explain some of it and as to why Dylan acts the way she does. I hope you guys like the chapter but I'm hoping even more than people are reading this. Tell me what you think guys, review. Enjoy._

_- - - - - - - - - - - - - _

"_Ey," Dylan said, dropping her book bag onto the floor as she walked through the kitchen floor. She looked up seeing Derek's eyes spilling tears and his face bright red, matching her mother's, who had obviously been crying. Dylan froze asking, "What happened?"_

"_Now Dylan-"_

"_Mom," Dylan said, knowing her mom was trying to ease her into it, but Dylan needed to know right away seeing that her heart had stopped beating from anxiety. "What happened?"_

_Her mom gulped. "Dylan, baby," She said, taking a breath. She stared at Dylan not knowing how to tell her without making it into something long and dragging, knowing Dylan couldn't take it. "I have leukemia." _

_Dylan closed her eyes and shook her head. "For how long have you known?" Dylan knew by her mother's tone that she had known for a while already. _

"_About a year." Dylan heard Derek's fist hit the kitchen table, knowing that's what hurt him the most. She had it for a year, yet she couldn't tell her family, and knowing their mother, she didn't go in for any type of treatment. _

_Dylan bit her bottom lip to try to restrain but her eyes already watered up. She sighed, and looked down, shoulders slumped in defeat. "What do we do?"_

_Dylan looked up as her mom tried to smile comfortingly to her. "Enjoy the time we have left." With that, the three looked at each other, frozen in time, feeling their lives crumble and world get turned upside down. _

- - - - - - - - -

Dropping her bag on the floor, Dylan closed her bedroom door quietly. She was stuck in one of those moments where something happens that you don't expect, like letting your guard down to a football player you know has some kind of power over your heart. She was stuck in that moment that you think, 'well what now?' because in one moment, you knew that things would be changing, for better or for worse.

And Dylan was stuck in that moment. Sitting down in front of her vanity mirror, Dylan stared. She tended to do this at times when she felt lost in all that's happened in her life. She stared and every time she always saw her mother, just because of their uncanny resemblance to each other. She hated it at times. She knew her father hated it that Dylan looked so much like her mom. It was one of things that drove him into anger and violence; constantly seeing the product of the love of his life walking around through a younger version of her.

Dylan blinked, and staring at herself as she saw the moment happen, like it did the many other times she remembered it.

- - - - - - - - - -

"_Dylan?" Her mother asked softly, opening the door with a crack. She stepped in, and closed the door behind her. "Baby, come here," She said and although Dylan was stubborn, she was always vulnerable to her mother. "I know this is hard for you to understand, but I don't feel like I need anything to save in this life," She said, and Dylan shot her a look. "You know what I mean. I have you guys. I have your father. I have a great family, a good job, and I led a happy life. There's no need to be upset."_

"_What about us?" Dylan asked voice almost inaudible. "We need you."_

"_I know you guys will be okay," Her mom said, and Dylan shook her head. "But there's something I need you to know. Something I need you to understand, just because I know you are so much like me, Dylan." Dylan looked up, and her mom smiled. "Don't shut out the world." Dylan stared at her, confused. "I know that you won't want to lose anyone else after all of this, and I know you'll block so many people out. But I don't want you to. I want you to continue living life, and always appreciate. Let love and let friends come, don't push them away." Dylan looked down, sniffing. She couldn't quite understand, and she didn't follow her mother's advice at all. _

- - - - - - -

That was what left her here. Sitting on a chair, staring at herself in the mirror, remembering what her mother had said, remembering what her mother had wanted to her to do, and how Dylan did the complete opposite. By the time Dylan realized what her mother meant in not pushing the world away, and keeping everyone out, Dylan had already done it. The only person who stayed in her world that she couldn't push out was Ferris, and her brothers. Her father had already pushed everybody out, even his own kids through violence and making the household unbearable. But his children stayed; to watch, to take care, and to show him that they weren't going anywhere.

Dylan blinked again. Somebody entered her world.

- - - - - - - - - -

"So, dude," Chavez started and Billingsley rolled his eyes. "You and my neighbor had a- what do you call it, Winchell?"

"A moment?" Winchell asked.

"A moment!" Chavo yelled. "A fucking moment. I mean if Winchell saw, the whole damn stadium saw it, Billingsley." The three sat down outside of their favorite 'after-the-game' restaurant. "So, tell me about it."

"Tell you about what?" Billingsley asked, and Chavo rolled his eyes. "Seriously, I don't know what to tell you. I have no idea where that came from. She's been treating me the same, and I've been treating her worse."

"Maybe that's what she likes," Winchell said, shrugging.

"Nope," Chavo said, shaking his head. "I know her." The boys raised their eyebrows, "Better than you two do, and I saw it on her face, she wasn't expecting to even do that. Something happened there, and it's up to you," He pointed at Billingsley, "to find out what did. Ask her tomorrow."

Billingsley stared down. "Ask her what?"

- - - - - - - - -

"So," Billingsley sat there as Dylan started to pack up since they finished. "Did you like the game yesterday?"

"Uh," Dylan muttered feeling her heart beat start to increase. She furrowed her eyebrows. She didn't understand. "Yeah. It was a pretty good game. Good job."

Billingsley smiled.

"Now that you're ego is big enough to fill the room, I'll see you tomorrow," Dylan said, almost slipping out the door to leave.

"Wait," Don said, standing up as she stopped at the door way. "You actually stopped."

"I'm surprised too," Dylan said, turning around.

"Let's go to lunch," Don asked, smiling a little. "I'll treat."

"No."

"No?" He asked, confused at her abrupt answer. He shouldn't have been.

"I don't want to get mobbed by your football frenzy fans," Dylan said and Don laughed.

"I'll protect you," Billingsley said, walking closer to her as she stared at him.

"If they charge at me, I'm letting them take you for the kill," Dylan said and Don smiled.

"Sounds good," He said and led the way as she followed, fiddling her thumbs.


	10. Beat Red

_Disclaimer: Don't own anything except original characters. _

_A/N: And I'm back in the game. I'm trying to get back into my stories so I can get to finishing them. Anyway, thanks so much for the reviews that I got during the absence and I hope you all like this. Reviews and feedback are much appreciated )_

_- - - - - - - - - _

"Do you want-"

"I'm fine," Dylan said quickly before Don could finish. She looked up and his eyebrows were up. "Wait, what?"

"Was gonna say, do you want a drink?" He asked, pointing his thumb at the waitress to Dylan's left.

"Oh!" Dylan almost jumped. "Sorry. A Sprite is fine."

Don smirked at her and kept his face down to keep from revealing this. "Sprite," He said before the waitress opened her mouth.

She smiled politely at them, a little too wide at Don and then walked away.

"You're a little tense," Don pointed out while looking through the menu.

"I lack sleep. That's what happens when people wake up early in the morning to tutor idiots," Dylan answered quickly as Don looked up and narrowed his eyes at her.

"And we were doing so well," Don muttered.

Dylan almost laughed. "Like we wouldn't be us if I didn't insult you and you didn't pout like a diva."

Don pursed his lips together and looked up slowly. "Did you just say us?" Dylan stopped smiling and looked at him through her hair. "Like us as in-"

"Us as in tutor and student," Dylan interrupted. "What kind of 'us' did you think I meant?" She asked roughly but her voice cracked at the end.

Don smirked again. "Right."

"Stop that," Dylan said dropping her menu. "That's not how I meant it."

"Oh I know," Don said, nodding. "No need to be so defensive." He almost snickered.

She glared. "Stop."

He laughed. "What?"

"Stop."

He laughed harder now, forehead hitting the table.

"Stop. Please stop," She pleaded, pouting now only making him go into another fit of hysterics. She jutted her bottom lip out and crossed her arms.

- - - - - - -

Ferris blinked. Chavo did the same. The two sighed and stepped out of their cars, parked across from each other.

"Waiting for Dylan?" Chavo asked.

"Yeah. Why? Are you?" Ferris asked, hurriedly. "I thought I was going to pick her up but if you were the one she spoke to then-"

"It's okay Ferris," Chavo said, entertained. "I'm here to pick up Billingsley."

"Oh." Ferris nodded. "I should've figured that out."

Chavo chuckled. "It's okay." They stood there in the Texas heat. "So how ya been?"

Ferris nodded with pursed lips. "Same old, same old. You?"

Chavo shrugged. "I don't know much other than football, getting good grades and getting out of here."

Ferris smiled as he narrowed his eyes from the sun. "Know what you mean."

"Where do you plan to head to?" Chavo asked, leaning against the car door.

"Dylan and I have dreams of creating a comedy show in New York City." Ferris paused. "She'd be the monotone comedy of course."

Chavo laughed. "She'd want to go there, wouldn't she?" Ferris nodded as Chavo gulped. "How she been?"

Ferris stared, his smile fading. "Same old, same old." He shifted a little. "You know she just wants to get out but I have a feeling she'd never be able to do it."

Chavo looked down. "Sounds like nothing's changed." He looked up at Ferris, who squinted up at the sky.

"Nothing has," He muttered. He looked back down to Chavo and grinned. "Other than the fact that you've got half of the girls wanting to be with you." Chavo smirked. "Instead of you just chasing Dylan."

Chavo snickered. "Well, it's Billingsley's turn to battle the beauty."

"Or the beast," Ferris mumbled.

- - - - - - - -

Don chuckled in amusement. "You eat a lot."

Dylan looked up, taking the last bite of her burger. "What's your point?"

He shrugged. "Never seen a girl eat like you before."

"Well it comes from battling Derek in food contests," Dylan said, moving on to finishing her fries. "Being the girl, I was always determined to win." She smiled with her mouth closed, looking down at her meal. "And I did."

"How are you so tiny then?" He asked, genuinely confused.

"God knows," Dylan said with a shrug. "Maybe I work it off every time I punch Derek's face in." She glanced at him. "Or yours."

He rolled his eyes. "Right."

"We'll wrestle one day. You'll see," She said, dipping her fries in her salt and pepper dip.

For some weird reason, Don felt the blood rush to his cheeks. He knew his face was bright red and he tried to move his face to cover it. He looked at the ceiling as he tried to think of something else. He closed his eyes in defeat as he only pictured only thing: wrestling with Dylan.

"What's wrong with you?" Dylan asked, abruptly.

"Hm?" He asked not taking a chance in saying an actual word, fearing his voice might crack.

"You look like a fuckin lobster," Dylan said, slight amusement in her voice.

Don turned his face to her and glared. "It's hot."

"Right," Dylan said after a few moments of silence between them. "Do you realize you are sitting right next to the air conditioning?" Don got redder. "You honestly have your hair flying in the air because of it. But sure. It's hot."

Don mumbled something under his breath about her being a bitch and she sat content in her chair, eating.

"So yesterday at the game," Dylan froze. "Why'd you look at me like that for?" Now her jaw dropped. She looked up at him to see him smirking in triumph at her. He grinned as she felt her face get hot.

Now they were an equal shade of red.


	11. Denial

_Disclaimer: Own nothing but Derek and Dylan in this chapter._

_A/N: I'm glad to see that people are still reading this! Anyway, I know you're antsy for some serious Dylan and Don action but be patient with them. They're obviously dysfunctional like that but we'll see what happens with them. Hope you like the chapter. Reviews and opinions on the story are much appreciated._

- - - - - - -

"Well?" Don asked, raising an eyebrow after a few minutes of Dylan just staring at her food. "Are you gonna answer my question?"

Dylan looked up, surprise colored on her face. "You asked a question?"

Don furrowed his eyebrows. "Uh, yeah. The one I just asked you."

"Huh," Dylan said, looking back down, eating her fries slowly as humanly possible. "Must've not heard it then."

"What are you talking?" Don almost yelled. "You stared at me, turned bright red and then just ignored me. I know you heard me."

"Do you understand English?" Dylan asked, looking up at him in interest.

"I'm speaking it, aren't I?" Don retorted.

She smirked. "I meant, do you understand English, as in the subject. These tutoring sessions, are they getting through your head or do I have to make everything relate to football for you to understand?" She popped a fry in her mouth.

He glared. "I understand just fine, thank you very much." She chuckled, looking down. "You are surprisingly a good tutor."

She snorted. "Gee, thanks."

"No really, truly inspiring just to hear you talk about English with all the examples you use," Don said. "It's the only time I really get a glimpse at what you want in life."

She froze and glanced at him. She gulped. "Don't joke when it comes to saying someone inspires you."

He stared at her. "Why?" He whispered.

She shrugged a little, looking out the window now. "To inspire someone is to give them hope in something." She looked back at him. "And that's a miracle in itself somewhere like here."

Don watched her as her eyes flickered to him then back out the window. He looked down, a feeling running through him. It was like feeling he wanted to barf. He wasn't sure what he was. He looked pained for a moment as he quickly tried to search for words and then the squeeze on his heart got a little tighter. He closed his eyes for a moment swearing it might burst. But it didn't. It just stayed still, squeezed tightly with something caught in his air hole.

He sighed seeing her stare out the window, the sun reflecting off her hair and her eyes lighter than ever. He cared. He cared too much.

"That's why I'm out of here as soon as possible," Dylan said, sounding more upbeat to lighten the mood. "Day after after graduation." She paused. "Oh hell, right after graduation."

Don smiled. "Dreams of New York City, living off the struggling artist money by being a writer." Dylan looked up and raised an eyebrow. "I listen to the examples that you use even though I look completely out of it."

"Hm," Dylan said with a nod. "A day full of surprises."

Don groaned unexpectedly and frowned. "Sure is."

- - - - - - - - - -

"Dude you fucking love her man!" Chavo yelled in pure amusement as even Winchell smirked in the backseat while they drove to a secluded place in the desert to shoot around.

"I do not!" Billinsley boomed making Chavo laugh harder. "Mike, tell em'! Tell him that this is just nothing."

"Absolutely," Mike said simply. "In love with her."

"You guys suck!" Billingsley yelled, crossing his arms. "I don't love her. I don't even like her." He looked out the window. "She's just hot. She's just nice to look at... to stare at."

"Oh then you wouldn't mind if Winchell started trying to date Dylan cause I think they'd be a pretty damn perfect couple," Chavo said nonchalantly.

"I wouldn't mind dating her," Mike said quickly after.

"No!" Don roared making the two fall into a fit of laughter. He grumbled, "I hate you guys."

- - - - - - -

"You like him," Derek said, nearly laughing himself off the couch.

Dylan made a face. "Uh, NO. This guy makes me want to puke."

"Because he gives you those butterflies?" Derek asked, giving her a nod.

"Will you shut up? I don't like him. I'm being nice to him. How does that fall into automatically liking him?" Dylan asked, sounding disgusted.

"Whatever. You like him," Derek said, leaning back into the couch and flipping the TV on. "And from what I hear, he's in love with you."

Dylan's head snapped up in the middle of her making a sandwich for herself. "Who told you that?"

Derek looked at her, wiggled his eyebrows and grinned. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Dylan glared then slammed the top bread of her sandwich down making Derek snicker. The two became silent as the door flew open and slammed closed. They watched as their father threw the fridge door open, grabbed a pack of beer, closed it loudly then huffed to his room, slamming that door closed as well.

"Must've had a reminder of mom somewhere in town today," Derek whispered.

"It's gonna be a rough night," Dylan said quietly taking her sandwich and sitting beside him on the couch.

Derek clenched his jaw together. "Uh, Dyl, I have a date tonight."

"No," Dylan said firmly. "You can't."

"But-"

"I've been holding down the fort a lot recently and if anyone's gonna need to go on a date, it's me," Dylan said as Derek opened his mouth. "Do not say it. It's not the time."

"Come on, Dylan," Derek whined. "Hit and quit it, I swear."

Dylan made a face. "No." She looked at him seriously, her eyes not glaring but now wide as she pleaded, "Don't go."

Derek groaned then scrunched his nose. "Fine." He looked at her. "Just let me go there and say it to her face that we can reschedule. It'll take five minutes."

"Fine," Dylan said, taking a bite from her meal and looked back at the TV.

"You can take a date night this week, you know. It's pretty obvious that you're gonna be asked out very very soon," Derek said, smiling at her as she refused to look at him.

"I hate you. Shut the hell up," Dylan said simply and continued chewing. Derek grinned at his little sister, reached over and messed up her hair.


End file.
